Janine (2010)

Directed by: Paul Cohen | 90 minutes | documentary | With: Janine Jansen

Only two months after Paul Cohen’s documentary ‘Janine’ came out, the DVD edition is already available: a wonderful (Christmas) gift for those who missed this fascinating portrait of one of the best violinists in the world in the art houses or at festivals. What drives this superstar? How does she experience her music? How does she deal with the whole marketing machine around the “brand” Janine Jansen and how does she manage under her extremely busy work schedule? Is it possible for her to find the right balance in her life? The documentary ‘Janine’ answers many of these questions and, for an hour and a half, immerses the viewer in a captivating way of Janine Jansen’s passionate music experience and everything that is involved in a top-level career.

The documentary has several important components. To begin with, it is indisputably clear how much Jansen is absorbed in her violin playing and in music in general. As soon as the first sounds of a piece of music sound, she seems to be in another world, a world full of emotions that she communicates to the viewer and listener through her extraordinarily expressive face. It also shows how demanding a studio recording can be. It must be quite a task just to play recording after recording of a small piece of music and to emotionally empathize with that specific part of the larger musical story over and over again. But Janine is also a huge perfectionist when she listens to her own work. While the conductors and producers often think it’s beautiful, we see Janine herself regularly making dirty faces at every small imperfection. They try to impress upon her that it may be absolutely perfect tonally, but that this can also mean that the soul and humanity disappear. While it is precisely this enthusiasm that is so important in Janine’s game.

In addition to the musical qualities of Janine’s violin playing, which time and again keep the viewer captive in a kind of trance, the documentary largely revolves around the downside, or necessary side effect, of a top-level artistic career, namely the marketing and commerce surrounding the “product” Janine. From all sides, managers and agents try to market the person and artist Janine Jansen in the best possible way by having her appear in the right TV programs or, in the specific case of the film, to get a glossy magazine around her. to build around. The conversations with the marketers and Janine about this magazine (the “Janine”) are very insightful, and what exactly should be included in it to attract the widest possible audience. A column by Paul Witteman or Matthijs van Nieuwkerk, for example, something about the books Janine reads, or the hiking hobby she sometimes practices. The fact that it sometimes has nothing to do with (classical) music seems to make little difference, and Janine’s own thoughts about this have hardly any impact. To the explicit question of one of these marketers whether Janine thinks she is being lived too much, she responds politely, but not completely in denial. It must indeed be frustrating and sometimes banal, but she also realizes that in the end she chooses this all on her own. She wants that place in the spotlight, she wants to be able to perform anywhere and with everyone, and as violinist Julian Rachlin, and ex-lover of Janine, also says: if you want a life as a professional artist, then these kinds of “obstacles” and busy schedules. Because she is busy! Until recently, she performed about two hundred concerts a year, not even counting all the ceremonies and “after-parties”. It seems to be madness and in the film Janine also appears clearly overtired several times. Some of Janine’s friends, such as colleague Maxim Rysanov, gently hint that it might all be a bit too much. For example, it could be at the expense of depth of her game and, more importantly, her health. So it’s no surprise that shortly after this film she decided to pull the plug and take some time for herself.

When a documentary bears a person’s name, you as a viewer expect to at least find out exactly who this person is and what his or her motivations or main musings are. Let this be the very aspect that turns out to be impossible, or very difficult, to discover in ‘Janine’. In interviews she appears to be barely able to put her feelings into words. A journalist who questions her for the one-off glossy “Janine” states very harshly that the (private) persons behind top musicians or artists are usually boring people. A bold statement, which, at least within the context of this film, turns out to be incorrect for various reasons. To begin with, the best man himself has little right to speak, when moments later, during a conversation with Roger Moore, the man himself fails to bring an ounce of energy into the interview with his uninspired questions and apparent inability to deal creatively with the interviewee’s answers. to go. The questions mostly contain platitudes and clichés about his film career, while prior to the interview Janine had just urged him to ask about his love for music, and during the interview with her bright eyes and smile clearly eager to have a good conversation with Moore to perform. She is clearly disappointed when silence falls after awkward silence and the interview comes to nothing.

On the one hand, it does not have to be the case that (initially) reluctant people really have nothing interesting to say. It may take a little more probing, detours, or necessary ice breaking before anyone dares to expose his soul or be able to sort out his own thoughts. Although many of Janine’s thoughts remain hidden – and the viewer does not find out, for example, what exactly attracts her in (classical) music, her instrument, the various works of the composers, and the hectic life of a top artist – some important remarks that do give an intimate picture of her inner world. Somewhere halfway through the film, Janine says she doesn’t want to dwell on the technique or method of her violin playing because she’s afraid she’ll get stuck if she thinks too much. She doesn’t really know what she’s doing, she says. In short, she works very intuitively and intuitively.

She may not reveal much of her soul-movements, but at the end of the film she shows herself at her most vulnerable during a car ride after a concert – which she gave while she was actually ill. At that moment, as a viewer, you feel so involved with Janine that you would like to hold her in your arms. It’s mildly poignant when she says that in her performances she gives so much of herself – so much emotion, so much love – but the feeling that she has too little love and support in her life. She says that she would actually like some time to think things through and discover herself and that she is too unbalanced right now. At the same time, she really wants to give so much of herself. “There is no other way,” she says. It’s an almost diabolical dilemma. A dilemma that will probably sound familiar to many great artists.

So Janine may be thrifty with her revelations, but the few revelations in the film are worth gold. But even if she didn’t reveal anything of herself in the interviews, her violin playing practically tells the whole story. Her facial expressions during her performances, which show anticipation, surprise, emotion, pain, love and joy, indicate a deep, emotional personality, which is anything but dull or superficial. Janine immediately knows how to bind the orchestra to her during her performances, says one of the producers of the Bach recording sessions. According to him, she is so pure and so authentic, and emotional as an open book during her violin playing, that she gets the immediate support of the other musicians, which he says is very unique. Violinist Rysanov also states that she can think very quickly and can “listen” like no other. She knows exactly how her fellow musicians are going to play a note and how to respond to this herself. Janine’s music experience is complete. She communicates and lives like no other in her music, with feeling and intelligence, and enjoys this to the fullest, just like her (loving) audience. Hopefully she manages to find this balance in all aspects of her life. ‘Janine’, the film, is in many ways an eye-opener (probably also for the protagonist himself), and also a loving portrait of a great artist. An artist who hopefully will be able to delight us for a long time and in good health with her wonderful sounds.